


A Poem (Of an Iron Bed)

by SilverBird13



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: 2000 words of porn and fluff, Alternate Universe - College/University, Brick!Javert doesn't get feelings, I think it would be aftercare, I think?, Light Dom/sub, Lots of it, M/M, Oral Sex, Roleplay, Spanking, Vampire Bashing, but Valjean's special, manly cuddling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-15
Updated: 2013-07-15
Packaged: 2017-12-20 06:17:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/883916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverBird13/pseuds/SilverBird13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Finals were the sort of thing Javert was made for."</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Poem (Of an Iron Bed)

**Author's Note:**

> The latest College AU, written at college during my internship and posted at 2 AM! There's at least one more installment to this series after this.

Finals were the sort of thing Javert was made for.  
  
After all, they involved large amounts of coffee and concentration and low amounts of human interaction.  Perfect, really.  
  
Except for the rather distracting 180-pound problem currently lying on his lap and reading a book the weight of a small child, highlighters and notes spread out like murder victims around him.  
  
Really, the man should’ve just been born a damn lapdog.  Or perhaps a hoarder.  
  
“Hey, Javert,”  Valjean asked cheerfully as he thumbed through his book and checked his notes, “Why do you think Dracula was written in epistolary form?”  
  
Javert grunted, shifting for the tenth time in half an hour to wriggle into a more comfortable position as Valjean merely snuggled to be closer against his hips, hardly helping him to concentrate.  Damn biology.  
  
“You ask the astronomy major this?” he replied, running his fingers through his hair in agitation.  “Text Fantine.  Isn’t she into that stuff?”  
  
“No,”  Valjean grunted as he shifted, effectively pressing his belly flush against Javert’s pelvis and causing the man to let out a huff of breath, “she’s going for education.  I don’t think she’s taken this course, though she does like some of the classic novels.  Ever heard of-”  
  
“Valjean,”  Javert finally spat out, “I’m sure I haven’t, nor do I care to.  However, I do care that I currently have a full-grown man lying on a rather _sensitive_ part of my anatomy and it’s making it a bit, well, difficult to concentrate!”  
  
Valjean merely grinned and looked up at Javert through his long eyelashes.  “Why don’t we take a break, then?” he said, running a hand down the front of Javert’s shirt for (unnecessary) emphasis.  
  
“Valjean, we took one of your ‘breaks’ three hours ago!” Javert protested, beginning to grow frustrated in earnest.  He still had to review the damn nebulas, not to mention the ridiculous chemistry of stars his professor had made them learn...  
  
“I know,” Valjean said as he flipped his bangs back, “but I’m fed up with Dracula, and you look so terribly _pained_ ," he sighed, a devilish grin forming. “Makes me want to fuck it right out of you.”  
  
“I could say the same,”  Javert replied, smirking and stroking down Valjean’s back and giving his ass a gentle smack, growling as the other man arched into him and more or less purred, undoing his shorts and shrugging off his briefs in a hasty motion.  
  
“How do you want it, Jean?”  Javert asked as he gave the man’s ass another smack, moaning a little as he felt the man grind his impressive erection upon his clothed lap in response, “Want to suck me?  Have me suck you until you beg for it?  Pretend you’re my little whore again like we did on Friday?”, punctuating every question with a squeeze and a slap.  
  
“The last one, dear God, no, all of it- _Javert_!”  Valjean whined, turning his head up to look at Javert and moving off his lap.  “Do you want to be Dracula, then?”  
  
“God, no, Valjean!  How the hell am I supposed to be a vampire?” he shook his head, grimacing, even as Valjean moved to sit atop him, shoving his own growing erection against Javert’s with a smile and giving him a peck on the cheek.  “Though biting you could be rather enjoyable, I suppose,”  he smirked. “And wouldn’t you just love to walk into your exams and show your professors just how much you _studied_ this week?”  
  
Valjean moaned a little at his words, grabbing one of his hands to kiss it and shoving his own book along with Advanced Astronomy:  A Comprehensive Look at the Classification and Composition of Galaxies off the bed, likely frightening all of Javert’s poor over-caffeinated charges on the floor beneath them.     
  
“You’re already nocturnal,” Valjean supplied helpfully, murmuring the words into his neck as he pulled off Javert’s t-shirt and ran his hands over the man’s skin, making him gasp and wriggle.    
  
Desperate to regain at least some semblance of control again, Javert began to unbutton Valjean’s denim shirt (a gift from him, of course-he needed at least ONE button-down, _really_ ) and tried to reason with the man atop him as he stroked Valjean’s stubbled cheek, casting his gaze around for something a bit less cliche to roleplay than _vampires_.  
  
Valjean’s ridiculous potted violet was the unlucky recipient of his attention.  
  
“Hmm, Jean,” he moaned, thrusting his hips up and smirking at the other man’s intent expression, “why don’t we play ‘Gardener’?”  
  
“How do you play?”  Valjean asked teasingly as he kissed at Javert’s chest, licking a bit at the hair the way he knew the man liked.  
  
“Well,”  Javert answered huskily, head thrust back and hand fisted in Valjean’s hair as he moved lower, “You’re my gardener, and I’m the gentleman employing you to landscape for me.”  
  
Valjean looked up quite suddenly.  His raised eyebrows and shifting eyes were hardly the shaking mess of a reaction he’d hoped for. “So, I shave you?”  
  
“No, Valjean!  Dear God,”  Javert said, rolling his eyes and pulling the man firmly by the shoulders into a heated kiss, “I meant exactly what I said.  You’re my gardener, and I’m your boss and you show me just how _dirty_ you can be.”  
  
“Good,”  Valjean murmured, blushing wildly as he began to unbuckle Javert’s belt and moving to trail a hand down the man's belly as he went, “because I like it, Sir” he chuckled, taking Javert’s trembling hands and slipping one long finger into his mouth as he stared unabashedly at the man’s cock before him, “I like it a lot.”  
  
“So you like sucking on things, do you, Jean?”  Javert asked teasingly as the man continued to lick and lave his tongue along Javert’s finger.  
  
“Mmm,”  Valjean replied, releasing the digit with a kiss to Javert’s palm, “I do indeed, Sir.”  
  
Javert grinned, moving Valjean’s hand to cover his bare cock. “Then there’s something for you to tend to below.  Do give it your most _attentive_ care,” he said, raising his eyebrows.  
  
“Of course, Sir,”  Valjean breathed, lowering himself onto his belly between Javert’s spread legs and giving the head of his cock a single, nearly chaste kiss before covering the head and part of the shaft with his mouth.  He’d gotten better at taking more of it, Javert noted as he jerked up at Valjean’s ministrations (Good God, a little teeth, rough licks, the blue eyes fixed on his face-how did the man know him so well?), petting the man’s shaggy hair as he heard Valjean hum into his cock, signaling his own pleasure in the act.  
  
“J-Jean,”  he growled, feeling himself grow close, “stroke me now and tell me how much you love this."  
  
“Well, oh God, Sir,” he moaned, pressing his forehead into Javert’s shoulder again and kissing the skin there gently as he felt the man start to spill, “Your-your cock is so huge, so thick, I love it in my mouth and my hand and-ah!” he moaned, wrapping an arm around Javert’s back to rub soft circles as he stroked him through his orgasm, “And I love you, Javert.” he murmured as the man finally stilled beneath him.  
  
Javert let himself sink into his pleasure, into the words he may or may not have heard for only a moment before opening his eyes again and falling back into character.  There’d be time for this once Valjean wasn’t practically humping his leg in desperation.  
  
“You’ve done well, Jean,”  Javert said, smirking as he fumbled under his pillow for the lube used barely three hours ago.  Valjean was paying for the next bottle, he thought as he poured some into his palm and wiped his hands against Valjean’s so the man could prepare himself.  
  
“Anything for you, Sir,”  Valjean groaned, pressing a slick finger inside himself to the second knuckle and rocking against his own hand, adding another barely seconds later. “Please, Sir.”  
  
“Of course,”  Javert said with a fox’s smile, reaching around to grab Valjean’s ass and pull him forward to straddle his chest.  Valjean, frequently awkward despite his best attempts, was surprising agile in bed, and didn’t even falter in his movements, adding a third finger as Javert lifted his head to take Valjean’s cock in his mouth, twisting his tongue around the tip and sliding it into the slit.    
  
“Oh, Javert,”  Valjean whimpered, grasping at the man’s broad shoulders with his free hand, “More, please, now!”    
  
Javert couldn’t help but pull himself off of the man’s cock to scold him.  “That’s ‘Sir’ to you, Jean,” he said, giving the man a light pinch on the hip and causing Valjean to groan, his thrusting against his fingers growing more wild.  
  
“Yes, Sir,”  he gasped, rocking his hips forward desperately, “Please Sir, keep going!”   
  
Javert lay back and smiled.  “Do what, Jean?  We’ve talked about this.  If you tell me what you want, I’ll give it to you.”  
  
Valjean threw his head back in desperation, hips grinding against air.  “Please, Sir, suck me!  Please!”    
  
Javert lurched forward, quickly taking the man in his mouth again and wincing at the sour taste of precome.  He hardly minded the act (Valjean whimpering, Valjean’s powerful body all his...), but he’d never understand the great pleasure the other man took in it.  A few more flicks of Javert’s tongue (and maybe a quick slap to his ass when Valjean asked for it), and the man above him was spilling into his mouth, Javert swallowing it down as he stroked the strong thighs on either side of his chest.  
  
Valjean immediately yawned, ruffled his own his hair, and slunk down onto the bed, curling against the wall as Javert shifted over to give themselves more space.  Though really, why did he even bother?  The man was born tactile.  
  
They lay together, covers down in the May heat, as Valjean traced meaningless patterns into Javert’s chest, his hair tickling the other man’s jaw pleasantly.  Javert sighed, knowing Valjean would ignore his own damn action unless he took control, and summoned up his hazy logic to confront the man.  
  
“Valjean,” he murmured as softly as he could, trying in vain to be soothing “you said you loved me.”

  
Valjean’s head snapped up suddenly, nearly connecting with Javert’s jaw.  “Well, um, I um, yeah,” he tried eloquently.  “I do.”  
  
“You do.”  Javert repeated, shocks going through his belly.  It was hardly a surprise after all, he knew, but the words still nearly took the breath from him.  “Why did you tell me now?  Why during this?” he asked, since really, how _did_ one go about choosing when to confess their love?  
  
“Javert,”  Valjean said, attempting (unsuccessfully) for the hundredth time to roll his eyes, “I was going to say it somewhere a bit more _romantic_ than a sweaty dorm bed when I’ve got your, well, your cock in my hand.  I just-I just got caught off-guard.”  
  
“Well, what’s more romantic than this?”  Javert asked, gesturing to their bodies, to the bed.  “Us plain before one another?”  
  
Valjean blushed then, closing his eyes. “I wanted to take you out for dinner after finals, to some outdoor bistro,” he confessed softly, “and tell you over a bottle of _rose_ , under the stars, exactly what you mean to me.”  
  
Javert chuckled, taking Valjean’s hand and pressing it against his cheek.  “Something besides this university food would be nice,”  he answered, leaning to press a kiss to Valjean’s inner elbow, “but I’ll take you either way, Jean.  Besides, after these exams, I don’t think I’ll want to see the damn stars for at least a good week.”  
  
Valjean let out a laugh, snuggling closer to Javert and resting his head against the taller man’s chest.  “We’ll go then.  But until next week, know that I do love you.”  
  
Javert closed his eyes, stroking a light hand down Valjean’s arm, “And I love you, my Jean.”  
  
Javert smiled despite himself as he began to drift to sleep.  Really, this was so terribly cliche.  What would he do next, join the damn theater troupe and start wearing scarves?    
  
The man in his arms hummed softly and shifted closer, and Javert allowed himself to agree that maybe some cliches weren’t as horrid as they seemed.   
  
The clock read 5:26 AM, and soon both were fast asleep.  
  
  
  



End file.
